Sunday, March 24, 2013

Novels of Asia Redux

Non-fiction
shelves are filled with the work of those who try and interpret the rise of
Asia. Now, it’s time for novelists to step in. Unusually, two recent books by
writers from this part of the world both take their cues from self-help books.

The
first, Mohsin Hamid’s How to Get Filthy
Rich in Rising Asia, announces its structure in the title itself, and with
chapter headings such as ‘Learn from a Master’ and ‘Work for Yourself’. It’s written
in the second person, and the combination of these elements puts one in mind of
the stories in Lorrie Moore’s collection, Self
Help, especially ’How to Become a Writer’.

How
toGet Filthy Rich in Rising Asia is
the life story of an individual born to an impoverished family, a “young
jaundiced village boy”. However: “Moving to the city is the first step to
getting filthy rich in rising Asia. And you have now taken it.” Hamid charts
his protagonist’s progress over the decades, from DVD delivery boy to
“non-expired-labeled expired-goods salesman” to bottled-water baron. (He starts
out in this last endeavor by simply filling old plastic bottles with boiled tap
water.) Bribes, bureaucracy and betrayals are, of course, part of this process,
played out against the backdrop of urban decay.

It’s
also a love story, and Hamid has said in a recent interview that he modeled the
book on Sufi poetry: “Islamic mysticism where love is used as the prism for
relating to the universe…in the form of love poems, which are second-person
addresses”. Thus, the book also follows the fortunes of another individual
referred to as “the pretty girl”, who makes her way from small-time model to
television chef to upmarket furniture and bric-a-brac retailer. In a series of
deft segues, we learn of the couple’s interactions and ultimate fates.

In
contrast to Hamid’s coolly ironic tone, Tash Aw’s work is – on the surface, at
least – more formally realist. His Five
Star Billionaire, at nearly double the number of pages, shares similar themes,
yet is a very different kind of work. If you look at the chapter headings
alone, you’ll find them almost interchangeable with Hamid’s: ‘Choose the Right
Moment to Launch Yourself’ and ‘Anticipate Danger in Times of Peace’, for
example. In addition, one of the characters is addicted to self-help books
while another claims to have written many of them.

The
setting is a brash, modernising Shanghai, a magnet that Aw’s characters are
drawn to from the Malaysian countryside. Many of the characters in Yiyun Li’s
short stories are bewildered and left behind by the new China; here, we see the
other side of the coin.

The
five stars of Five Star Billionaire
are the winner of a reality music show, an idealistic coffee-shop owner turned
businesswoman, the scion of a wealthy family looking to expand its interests, a
young woman who works in a spa and a mysterious tycoon seeking a legacy. Having
thrown these balls up in the air, Aw makes them cross in their upward and
downward trajectories, most of the time with a degree of skill. Beneath this is
a subterranean plot to do with the catching up of a retributive past.

The
fast-changing, polluted city with enclaves of affluence is a tangible presence
in both books; in addition, fakes feature in both, as local rip-offs as well as
the authenticity – or lack thereof -- of the characters. In his trademark tone,
Hamid writes: “You know quality matters, especially for fakes”, and Aw observes
of a counterfeit brand: “Like everything in life these days, I suppose you
could say it’s a copycat – a fake”.

One
of the chapters in Hamid’s novel starts with an
exhortation to focus on the fundamentals. As novelists, both he and Aw do this
by focusing on character and plot and creating alternative, competing visions
of Asian rise and fall. Business headlines may trumpet a nation’s success
story, but it takes a novel to unmask the darker, intimate stories behind it.